


Then Richie Saw Him

by faked_my_death



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Bill Denbrough is a Good Friend, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Suicide Attempt, The Losers Club Are Good Friends (IT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22880884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faked_my_death/pseuds/faked_my_death
Summary: Months after the events with It took place, the Losers had found their places, except for Richie. Richie who had to go home alone. Richie who felt like he had nothing left. Richie who felt he was broken beyond repair. Little did he know that the rest of the Losers are there for him, dead or alive.(Trigger warning: Suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts)
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 35





	Then Richie Saw Him

Richie didn’t think it would end this way. He didn’t think any of it would end this way: Stan, Pennywise, Eddie, the Ben and Beverly thing was obvious. All of it led up to now where he sits in his room, colder and darker than it normally is. He has not left his room in days, let alone his house. He feels wasted away, like he’s a hollow shell, with no food in his stomach, his muscles cramped and tight, his hair greasy, and his face unshaven. He was officially at his worst.   
No, that’s not when he decided to take action, he decided days ago. To be honest, he feels like the decision was made months ago when he saw that thing impale him right over him. Of course, it had not taken long for the Losers to figure out something was wrong, or that things were getting worse. His daily messages had doubled and tripled when he stopped responding to them. At first, he read them, but he had to put it away when the calls began. It had not made a noise in while, he assumed it died, but a small part of him wondered if they gave up. 

In the meantime, he just laid there. Sometimes he talked to Eddie, sometimes in his head, but sometimes out loud. He did not think about it, he did not want to. No, he did not want to do it to them. He did not want anything anymore. He was not sure if he felt anything anymore. He started with pain, drinking and smoking his way into regret. He was just so tired and sad all of the time, there was no escaping. Now he felt like nothing. His limbs were no longer in use, his head felt muddled and stuffed. No time passed, it seemed as though he was just floating in space. 

He sighed with a breath that rattled his chest as he slowly expanded his body. His muscles resist as he stood, stumbling back onto the bed. His head swirled and flipped, but he pushed past it and got out of bed. Slowly he made his way out of his room, squinting at the light that streams through the living room window. When he opened his door to the living room he paused a little, holding on to the wall to fix his balance. He made it to the bathroom and turned on the water, wincing at how loud it was. He pulled the crumpled note from his shirt pocket. He smoothes it out as best as he could before placing it on the counter.

No, this is not how Richie wanted things to go, but that is how it was happening. He looked in the mirror at the pathetic version of himself as he stripped out of his rumpled clothes. He leaves his boxers though, to spare whoever finds him, he convinces himself. He holds the razor that he left on the counter days ago. He takes a deep breath as he holds it close. 

“Oh, God,” his voice cracks as he begins to cry. He wipes away the tears with his wrists as he steps silently into the tub as he turned off the water. 

He sat there as the water stilled around him, his head ached. He was scared, but he did not know why. He did not know where he was going, to hell or heaven if either were real. He sat there, but at last, he gripped the blade tight, feeling it bite at his fingers.

He laid his head back against the porcelain, not helping the headache that already presided. He felt worse. He felt nauseous, felt like his head was being stuffed full of cotton, and his vision turning blurry. The thought he had his glasses on, or maybe they just fell. God, he just wished that it was over. Then when he opened his eyes, he felt just fine. 

Then he saw him. He saw him just standing there, looking gorgeous in all white. Then he saw the look of anger on his face. 

“What the hell you doing, dickwad?” 

“What?” 

“What the fuck?”

“Eddie, I literally watched you die and that is how you greet me?”

“Not like I didn’t just watch you fucking die either”, Eddie gestured behind him. Richie turned to see himself in the tub. He looked gaunt and pasty white against the red that swirled around him. Richie is horrified to say the least. 

“I don’t think you understand what it’s been like.”

“Oh, I’ve seen everything,” Richie grabbed his hand.

“Eds,” he said so gently that the other stopped talking. He pulled the shorter one into a giant hug, holding him tight as he kissed the top of his head. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’m sorry this is how it had to be,” Eddie said and Richie pulled away, looking him in the eye. 

“Don’t, you have nothing to apologize for,” he places his hand against his cheek, the one that had been stabbed. He smiled when the other didn’t flinch. He leaned in and kissed him like he had yearned to for many years, like he should have many times. 

“I love you too, Rich,” Eddie said. Richie smiled again and leaned forward to rest his head against the other’s. “God, what have you done?”

“Eds?” 

“Richie,” Eddie pulled away and gestured to him. He was wearing nothing but his boxers, his pale skin and stark bones exposed. He noticed the blood on his wrists. 

“Oh, god.” He said as he looked down at himself. 

“I love you, but I’m sorry.”   
“Eddie?”

“We can’t do this to them,” Richie grabbed on to his hand again. 

“Eddie, please don’t.” He tried pulling him closer, but the other was stubborn. 

“It isn’t right, it’s not your time.” Eddie still tried to pry him off of his wrists. 

“Please, I can’t.” Eddie kissed him again. Hand on the back of his head, pulling him close.   
“Yes, you can,” he said. “I love you.” 

“Don’t!” Richie felt like he was falling from a thousand stories until he fell back into his body gasping. “Eddie!” 

He opened his eyes to see his friends’ blurry figures gathered around him. He was no longer in the tub, instead he felt the cold tile against his legs and a pair of arms wrapped around him.   
“Good, you’re okay, Richie. It’s alright, please. We’re going to help,” Beverly tried hiding her panic in comforting words that came out a little too rushed. Her smile contracted her tight nit eyebrows. 

Her and Ben were on the floor with him trying to stop the bleeding. Ben is on the phone, pacing and shifting his weight back and forth. Bill was the arms wrapped around him, his warmth felt nice against Richie. He could just see it. Grown adults on the floor surrounding the sad, pale man in boxers. Richie just cried. He cried with his forehead against Bill’s arm. His pathetic wails and gasps filled the room covering the adults.

He doesn’t remember what happened after that though. He wakes up in a hospital room with thousands of machines connected to him, humming softly. He lifts his head a little, but it’s too bright. He closes his eyes again. 

“Hurts doesn’t it?” he hears Bill. He sits there in one of those uncomfortable green hospital chairs as he watches the news. He hums, but still doesn’t bother to open his eyes. “Trump won,” Bill continues despite the other, “Hilary got the popular vote, but you know, electoral college.” 

“What day is it?” He asks because he feels like he should, but truthfully he doesn’t care about what day it was.

“Wednesday, you’ve been in and out for two days.”

“Oh”  
“Ben and Bev are getting food, Mike had to get stuff from our hotel.” Again, Richie feels like he should question it, but he doesn’t feel like it. His head is too heavy for it. They watch the news about the election for a moment before he slides the note on the table.

“Was he there?”

“Yeah,” he stares at the note, blurry against the brown table. 

“And?” 

“He didn’t like it,” he lays his head back on the bed closing his eyes, just picturing how beautiful he looked. “He pushed me, told me it wasn’t fair.” 

“Because it isn’t,” Bill turns towards him and grabs his hand. “Ben was devastated, Beverly cried, and Mike. Mike blames himself, he thought that he had killed three of his friends. I pulled you out of the tub, I didn’t know if you were alive or not. I just had to get you out of there. Then you woke up, screaming his name as you cried into my arms.” 

“Bill-”

“No, Richie, I knew that you saw him. I knew that we had come that close to losing you too,” he begins to cry a little as he takes his other hand and holds on to Richie. “I was so scared, we were all so scared.” Richie held on to him as he cried, much like the other had for him. He felt like he should cry too, but he couldn’t. He didn’t really feel anything. He was just there, in the hospital bed watching the news as his best friend cried. 

“I don’t feel anything,” Richie tests out. “I haven’t for a long time. I just felt like one giant hole with nothing in it, until I saw him again. I just knew that he was everything that I did not have. He was everything that was taken away from me. I felt whole for the first time in my life. Then that night, he was gone. He was taken away again and I was reduced to nothing again. At least before I didn’t know what it was like to be whole, now I do and it just-” he takes a shuttering breath as the other looks up at him. “It just hurts so much.” 

Silence falls on them, but it's okay. They just need a moment to sit and think. 

“What was it like?” Bill asks and Richie feels a smile tuck on his lips. 

“He was beautiful, as douchey as ever, but beautiful,” Bill laughs as he rest his head on his shoulder. “It felt real, but so fake at the same time. Real that everything was a solid object that existed, but everything felt so good and clean.” 

“I’m happy you’re here,” Bill says following up more silence. Richie thinks for a moment, before looking at him. 

“I think I am too.”

“Were you planning on keeping him all to yourself?” Bev says as he enters the room and they part as she goes in for a hug. 

“Hey, Bev.” 

“It’s good to see you up.” She says and Ben gets a hug from him too. “Did you tell Mike?”

“Yeah, he was just groaning and cussing about it being bright for a few minutes so I texted him,” they smile. 

“So just not us?” she asks. 

“Right.” 

They pull two more chairs towards the bed as they pass the food over to Bill. 

“None for me?” Richie says picking up the empty greasy bag. 

“Do you want me to get nurse Jackie? I bet she can hook you up with something,” Ben says pointing towards the door and Richie kicks him. He smiles as they dig into their burgers and watch the news that hasn’t made it to other matters yet. 

“I love you guys,” he says and they look at him with smiles. 

“Richie,” Mike says nervously as he entered the room with a bag in his hand. 

“Come here,” Richie says and they make way for him to walk to the bed. Richie pulls him down into the biggest hug he can muster. “I’m okay, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Mike hugs him back with a smile on his face. 

They sit and eat their burgers as they watch the news until they get bored with it. They argue over what to watch and Richie, much to their dismay, plays the ‘almost died’ card and wins the remote. It’s far from being okay, and they all know that, but at that moment they were alright. Richie can rest easy now knowing that Eddie is truly in a better place and that he’s watching over him to keep him in line. He knew that he had a place and a person waiting for him when it actually comes his time. And that’s alright.


End file.
